SINK

The spin of clean, clear water
swirling down the drain – and
all that is left are 2 tiny, ugly pieces
of mushrooms, 1 wrinkled pea
that looks like a 93 year old neck,
and 3 pieces of gristle. While doing

dishes the sink seems to mimic

my inner conversations:
the nice swirls away – while
1 or 2 or 3 ugly comments from

the dinner table remain. They

just won't slink down that drain.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

MAMA’S SECRET BOX

There’s no way to say this than to say it right up front and bluntly. Mama died in a plane crash. She was one of those 117 killed – as it appeared on the evening news – a number – 117 unknowns – unless you were related or connected to one of the 117 – unless you knew Mama – unless you were one of her 5 kids or 1 son -in-law or 4 daughter-in-laws – or one of her 14 grandkids – or a friend.

Mama – they called her “Mama.” In other families it’s mom or mother or what have you.

It was a horrible death – a very difficult funeral – and nobody really wanted to say anything – at the funeral parlor or the funeral Mass – at the cemetery or afterwards. It was too quick. Tears had to take the place of words. Holding onto each other was all the kids and grandkids could do.

Sometimes time helps. Time heals. A long drawn out suffering and then death – is often easier than a sudden death. Sudden deaths – too dramatic – too quick a cut – too often – too deep a wound. How and how old we are, when we die, makes a difference.

Mama’s Secret Box helped. They didn’t discover it till after the funeral when all five gathered at Mama’s house to sort things out.

Mama was a poet – a photographer – a short story writer – and a novelist – and nobody knew it – and nothing had been ever been published: her pictures, poems or stories.

But before we get into that, a few words about Mama are in order. Mama was mom all through the years – just mom – and a wonderful mom at that.

Mama lost daddy in the Vietnam War – and never married again. She tried a few dates – but no – she realized it wasn’t her. She raised their 5 kids: 4 girls and a boy – her youngest, Jack, – on her own.

All five of her kids finished college. All five kids married. All five – like Mama always did - went to Sunday Mass. All five kids and their families are doing well – very well.

Mama – was fiercely independent – wanting her kids not to worry about her – to grow up and get on with their lives – to be independent like she was. She knew the importance of “self-skills” just in case something happened. You never know what’s going to appear on our personal family evening news.

Oh, she was always there, when wanted. She loved being a mom. She loved being a grandma. She enjoyed baby sitting – any of her 14 grandkids, but if the in-law grandparents wanted to baby sit – go for it.

For starters then, Mama was calm, cool, laid back, independent. This would be her #1 characteristic. Somehow you never felt pressure from her. Her kids were all A students – without nagging on her part in any shape or form through their school years. How she was able to broadcast this was something her 5 kids would start to talk about as adults on phone calls and especially on the long Thanksgiving weekends which they all got together for every year.

It takes adult time to figure out who our parents really are – and many times only after their death. Of course, it would be better if we talked about these kinds of things while we have time with our parents – like long car rides or walks – but this doesn’t happen enough. With these 5 it was really only after Mama died. They had to admit to each other they knew all the mom stuff – but they didn’t know enough about their mom – and then there was dad – dad getting killed in Vietnam so many years ago and they were so, so young.

But now they had Mama’s Secret Box. This was her great unexplained gift to them. Whether she would have wanted them to have it and its contents – they might never know – because she died so suddenly and so violently.

She was on her way to Florence, Milan, Rome and Naples, Pompeii and the Amafi Coast – a tour – on her own with a group she met up with at the airport. She loved her trips. She considered them after the kids were raised “Mom Rewards” – and she had the money from her very successful real estate agency. It got her kids through college. It now got her to see the world.

Wait a minute! I got to get back to Mama’s Secret Box, but I also have to say a few more quick things about money right here, right now. Mama’s will was also a wonderful surprise. The house, the savings, the insurance, all were to be divided equally and evenly. “There were to be no fights over money.” It said exactly that in her will. The house was paid off. And mom had a great insurance policy – and money in the bank – with some good investments. This all took place before the recent recession or depression we’re going through. She learned from the death of her husband in the Vietnam War to take out big time insurance. And there was to be a nice money package because of the plane accident.

Now to that box: Mama’s Secret Box.

They – all five of them – were there in Mama’s bedroom – an arranged meeting in Mama’s house for all of them – one week after the funeral. They were to empty out her bureaus and closets and what have you. Opening drawers is much tougher than sorting out who wants what furniture and dishes and that kind of stuff.

Jack, the only son in the mix, felt a bit of reluctance – standing there in mom’s bedroom. He knew it would be a women’s task to sort out mom’s clothes and that kind of stuff. He had gotten boxes – and announced that he would take what they wanted to give away to Good Will. Till Dolores, the oldest, found Mama’s box, the 4 girls took their time sorting out clothes and what have – sorting out stories and tears about mom’s jewelry and clothes. Memories like perfume scent remain in loved one’s clothes.

Mama’s box was a decent size cardboard storage box – which she kept in her closet – on the floor – in the back. It was dark grainy cardboard brown. It had handles. It was just that: a cardboard storage box.

The girls placed it on her bed – as if it was the Ark of Covenant – the sacred biblical box.

All stood there – a bit nervous, a bit nosey, a bit excited – wondering what this box contained.

Since Dolores, the oldest, had found it, she opened it. No, it didn’t have dust or cobwebs – like something from a “Raiders from the Lost Ark” movie. It was clean – unscuffed –unscarred – and if they reflected upon it later, mom must have been quite gentle going back and forth putting in and taking out her box from that closet.

There were notebooks – lots and lots of tiny spiral notebooks. She wasn’t into computers. They wanted to buy her one – especially for e-mails. “No thanks,” said Mama. “I’m okay.”

Sarah, the second oldest said, “Uh oh! Did mom kept a diary?”

“That would be great,” Sandy, the youngest sister said.

Nope. Mom kept no diary. They were to discover she expressed her thoughts by her stories – and they were to find out that there were 28 of them – 28 short stories. There were about 50 photographs of trees. As they looked at them, Sandy said, “Wow. Mom liked trees. I didn’t know that.” And there were two novels – one finished – handwritten – with hundreds and hundreds of comments and rewrites. And there were lots and lots of poems.

Discovering these note books was like finding the Dead Sea Scrolls. “Surprise. We never knew they were there. Surprise. We never knew this about mom.”

The finished novel was entitled, “The Red, Yellow and Brown Leaves of October.” The second novel – the unfinished one – had three titles, “The Budding Green Leaves of April.” “Spring and the River Was Rising,” and “Spring: New Life Every Year.” “Wow, she was thinking sequel,” Mary the middle sister said.

This scene took place with all the sisters sitting on mom’s bed. It was not a tear time – or a time of laughter – it was unexperienced time.

There were moments of amazed silence as they glanced at the notebooks.

John, the youngest, the only son, began reading mom’s poetry. Her handwriting was impeccable. He read,

PEACH

The soft fuzz of peaches,
like the first time I held you,
my child – sacrament – gift –
unwritten book – what will
appear on your pages? – how
will you deal with the knife slices,
the cuts and sorrows of life?
But they are tomorrow’s questions.
Right now – today – this moment -
just be relaxed in a bowl
with my four other peaches.
Whatever happens, my little one.
You look delicious.

Then John said, “Wow, I wonder which of the five of us that one is about?”

And all four sisters said in unison, “John, it’s about you. You were her favorite.”

“Me? I didn’t know that. I always thought it was you four – because I was always so outnumbered – the only male in the house.”

“Okay,” said Dolores. “What do we do with her writings?”

And all 3 sisters and brother said, “Publish them!”

Mary, the middle and most literary of the 5 said, “I can see all of us on Oprah. But first, let’s divvy them up –- read everything – and see where that takes us.”

And that’s what they did. We never know about each other – till we know what’s in the closet.

[Intead of a homily on today's readings, the 5th Sunday of Easter, I decided to write a story last night. This is total fiction. Moreover I didn't know how to end it. Keep your eye on the best seller list for the rest of the story.]

ICE SCREAM

Mom and dad were screaming!
Older sister and middle sister
were also screaming, but all the
youngest child could see was
the ice cream inside the freezer
section of their refrigerator –
and with a smile while waiting
he sang inwardly the old family song,
“I Scream,You Scream,
We All Scream for Ice Cream.”*

Then the afterthought,
“That will calm them down.”

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009
*Popular 1927 song, “I Scream,
You Scream, We All Scream

For Ice Cream”,

(Howard Johnson, Billy Moll,

Robert A. K. King). Transcribed

from vocals by Tom Stacks

performing with Harry Reser’s

Six Jumping Jacks,
recorded January 14, 1928.

*

A CHILD’S EYES

I had enough – too much,
so today I decided to see life
through my child’s eyes.
“Tell me what you see!”
The more she saw,

I saw.
The more I said,

“I see what you’re seeing,
the more I saw.”
Today I saw for the first time
what Jesus saw when he said,
“The one who makes himself
as little as this little child
is the greatest

in the kingdom of heaven.”**
Today I saw how much
I was missing. Wow.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2009

* Statue of Mary and Jesus at

San Alfonso Retreat House,

overlooking the Atlantic Ocean,

West End, Long Branch, New Jersey
**Matthew 18:4 Jerusalem Bible;
Cf. also Mark 10: 15; Luke 18:17

THE HUNGERS AND THIRSTS

OF THE HUMAN HEART

When one is hungry, one looks for food.
When one is thirsty, one looks for water.
When one is hungry, one looks for comfort.
When one is thirsty, one looks to be satisfied.
When one is hungry, one looks for love.
When one is thirsty, one looks for friends.
When one is hungry, one looks for bread.
When one is thirsty, one looks for wine.
When one is hungry, one looks for meaning.
When one is thirsty, one looks for answers.
When one is hungry, one looks for the Someone.
When one is thirsty, one looks for God.
When God is hungry, God looks for us.
When God is thirsty, God finds us.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2009

VOICES

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Voices.”

Today’s gospel triggered that topic and theme for me. Jesus, the Good Shepherd, talks about knowing the sound of the voice of the Shepherd.

So some thoughts about the theme and topic of voices.

TRAIN RIDE

Picture the following. I’m taking a commuter train from Poughkeepsie New York to Grand Central Station in New York City. It’s about an hour and 45 minute ride. I’m sitting in a seat next to someone reading a newspaper or a book. And across from me are two people facing me. They are reading as well. I take out a note pad – to jot down some thoughts about an upcoming talk I was to give.

I begin hearing 4 women who are sitting behind me – two facing two. I never turned to see what they looked like or what have you. They are on their way to a class reunion in New York City – Hunter College.

I begin jotting down their comments – their wonderings – their voices – their questions – their hopes about the reunion. I jotted down about 200 voiced comments. Nobody knew what I was doing. I was just listening. I was being nosey.

The thought hit me: "Wouldn’t it be great to be sitting behind them on the way back that night – and to jot down what they found out about classmates, etc. etc. etc.?" It would be the stuff of a novel. I took notes of their conversation down to New York City – Part One. What was their conversation on the way back home – Part Two?

Voices. I was wondering if this is the thing novelists do – park themselves somewhere – listen to people – jotting down their voices.

A LOST iPOD OR RADIO

Picture the following. Someone finds an iPod or a radio – somewhere in the heart of the Amazon Jungle in South America. This person never saw such a gadget in their life. They have no clue what they have in hand.

They show it to someone else in the village and the other person switches on the on button and out comes music or talking. “Wooooo!”

Voices.

VOICES IN THE AIR
Picture the following. This is a scene we’ve all experienced several times in our life. We’re sitting there on a bench in a park or at the airport or we driving along in our car – and it seems everyone has a cell phone in hand – while driving, while walking, what have you.

Or we’re driving in our car and we turn on the radio and there are voices or music on at least 30 different stations.

It hits us that we are surrounded by a zillion phone calls and radio broadcasts and e-mails, texting and twittering – always and everywhere – all around us.

Even though there is silence – there are a zillion voices – in our surround sound.

Voices. They are everywhere. Someone driving down Duke of Gloucester Street right now might be sending a message that goes right through this church to someone in Eastport. Listen! They might be talking about one of us. Be quiet! What are they saying?

TRANSITION: VOICES IN OUR HEAD

There are also voices in our head – in our skulls – in our brains – in our minds – going on all day long – all life long.

What are you talking to yourself about right now?

If you are still on that train ride and thinking about similar conversations you’ve listened in on – that’s good. Where is your train of thought taking you?

I had the 5 o’clock Mass here last evening. I found out after Mass what two people were thinking about during my homily. They told me that two examples in this homily I used before in other sermons. When I heard that a voice inside of my head said, “Wow people remember what I say. Uh oh. I don’t remember what I say.” I also said, “Ooops I don’t like to repeat myself. Pride. My sin of pride.” Then another voice said, “I’ve been here too long. Run. Get out of here - you're repeating yourself."

Preaching to me is to get you not to notice me – but to get you to talk to yourself about some topic that I’m pushing – or to reflect upon the Sunday readings or a hymn at Mass – or what you have come here to pray about this Sunday.

This homily is on, “Voices”. I hope that’s a practical theme to think about today and this week.

If you are about to get my next point, even better.

Our brain has thousands of conversations each day. I don’t know the number.

There are three kinds of inner voices: voices about the present, voices about the future, and voices about the past. i don't know if that's true. I just made it up and have to think about that.

Present voices would be about today: the weather, this weekend, tonight. Oink! Oink! Aren't they overdoing this swine flu thing?

Future voices obviously would be wonderings and questions about what’s next – and what’s down the line for us and for those we’re connected with. They can be iddy biddy stuff like wondering if the Orioles will ever be good again – or heavy duty stuff like worrying about a job.

Past voices, I believe, are the most significant. If a preacher gets you in touch with a few of them, that’s great.

A voice from my past that I think about from time to time I heard in a talk by a nun, Sister Maureen McCann – a Dallas Pennsylvania Mercy Nun. She talked about this topic of voices. She was an excellent speaker. She spoke about our inner conversations – how important it is to be aware of what we are talking to ourselves about. She said we’re always talking to ourselves – having conversations with ourselves.

She suggested to eavesdrop. She suggested we listen to what we’re talking to ourselves about. She said to isolate conversations. Like on that train there might have been other people talking - voicing things I might have been able to focus in on. I chose to listen to those 4 women in the two seats facing each other that were behind me.

After isolating one voice – like turning the dial to get a radio station just right – she added, “Now turn up the volume.”

Then she said, “Listen carefully. What does that say about yourself?”

What were your mom’s words to you? What were your dad’s words to you?

What were their tone of voice most of the time?

Did you grow up in a house of affirmation and appreciation or a house of anger or agita?

What did teachers say to you? Was there a high school teacher that encouraged you to think about a future career? “You’re very good with numbers. Did you ever think of being an accountant?”

Or listen to how you talk to your kids or neighbors or spouse or co-workers. Does your voice sound like your parents’ voices or the way a boss or a teacher or a drill sergeant treated you?

Voices.

My mother often said – no matter what – “You did your best.” I liked that because I was a B student – with a C from time to time. Once I failed something in grade school - getting a 68. My mom said, “You did your best.” I didn’t, but it was great that my mom thought I did.

When I was a kid I saw an uncle drunk big time – a few times – and a voice inside of me said, “I’ll never drink!” and I never did.

A man on my block growing up was a grouch and I remember a voice inside me that said, “I’ll never be like that when I grow up.”

The other day I had to tell some kids who were skate boarding off our stairs at the school and onto the banister and taking off the paint – to go elsewhere. And I could hear that voice, “Grouch! You’re being a grouch.”

Voices?

What are my present and past voices?

What are the significant voices of my life?

What do I sound like?

THREE CONCLUSIONS
Let me make three quick conclusions:

First Conclusion. As I just said, if you heard my voice, listen to one’s own voices – past and present. Turn up the volume so as to be aware of them.

Second Conclusion: Shut up and listen to God’s voice. Is God the cornerstone of my life – as today’s first reading challenges us? Do I know God’s voice – Jesus’ voice – the Shepherd’s voice? You know how you get a phone call and you know whom the other party is from the first word. Do you know God’s voice? Prayer is talking at times; prayer is listening big time.

Third Conclusion: Jesus voices a great sentence near the end of today’s gospel – when he says, “I have power to lay down my life, etc.” We have the power to lay down our life for those we love. We have the power to die to ourselves so others can rise.

Wouldn’t it be great 50 years from now, someone hearing a sermon on this same topic would think of us as they say to themselves about us:

She always said “Thank you!”

He always said, “It’s so nice to be with you.”

She always said, “I love you” so beautifully – with so much real sincerity and authenticity.

He was humble. He could ask for “Help!” He didn’t have to know it all or do it all.

She was always so positive – so caring – so wonderful – as she talked to us with so much joy. There was always music and laughter and peace in her voice.

Amen.

THIS IS A TEST

INTRODUCTION

The title of my “whatever this is” this morning is: “This Is A Test!”

This morning, instead of a homily, I would like to give all of us a test. Now I know everyone hates tests: Driver’s Tests, Doctor’s Tests, School Tests. However, as I read today’s gospel, I heard John giving his early Christian community a test - a test about some heavy duty stuff. So I took the test. I didn’t like the test, but it made me think. So instead of a homily this morning, I decided to give you the same test.

Relax. Nobody is going to see your mark. Relax. This is a self test. Relax. You give yourself your own mark - because you’re the only one who knows your answers.

Okay. Ready. The test has 3 sections and takes less than 10 minutes. It’s even shorter than a Sunday Homily.

FIRST SECTION: IN GENERAL
1) Name three people in your life, if they called you on the telephone, you would recognize their voice every time - even if you hadn’t talked to that person in 5 years? 1) _______________ 2) ______________ 3) ____________.

2) On a scale of 1 to 10, ten being the highest, how good are you in detecting just from another person’s voice what they are feeling at the moment they are talking to you: for example, they are nervous, they are tired, they are very joyful, they are worried? _____________

3) Do people treat a rent-a-car any different than if they owned the car? Check one. More careless, e.g. throw Wendy’s wrappers under the seat, flip bitten off bits of finger nails on the carpet, let it get dirty, don’t step over muddy puddles before getting into the car? _____ Treat it just the same? ____ Treat it better? ___ It all depends ____.

4) Yes or no. Does a mother treat her baby better than a baby sitter would, that is, giving it much more attention, more holding, more talking to, more smiling at, more tickling, etc.? ________

5) Yes or no. Does a father treat his baby better than a baby sitter would, that is, giving it much more attention, more holding, more talking to, more smiling at, more tickling? _________

6) Check one. Does it make a difference it the baby is the first born or the third born? The same? __ It all depends? __ Very different? _____

7) Does a person who owns their own company work any different than someone who is hired and is then one of 21 people on the third shift? Check one: The same? _____ It all depends? ____ Very different? _________

SECOND SECTION: JESUS
1) Jesus was a carpenter. Joseph was a carpenter. Yet in today’s gospel Jesus says, “I am the Good Shepherd.” Why didn’t he say, “I am the good carpenter”? Check one: I don’t know. _________ I never thought about it __________. He figured more people would get the shepherd image than if he used the carpenter image. ____________.

2) When Jesus was in the garden on the night of the Last Supper, on the night before he died, he said to Peter, James and John, “Would you stay here with me awake while I pray.” They fell asleep. He came back and said, “Couldn’t you stay awake an hour with me?” Did they notice any fear and trembling in Jesus’ voice? Did they notice any difference in the way he spoke at that moment compared to the way he spoke a few hours before at the Last Supper? Check one: I don’t have a clue? _____ No ____ Yes _____ I need more time to think about this one ______.

3) Once when Jesus was in a crowd, a woman came up to him saying to herself, “If I just touch the tassel on his cloak, I will be healed.” She did and Jesus said, “Who touched me?” And his disciples said in so many words, “Are you crazy? There’s a whole crowd here and you ask, ‘Who touched you?’” And the woman who touched Jesus and was healed, then spoke up and Jesus had a healing conversation with her. On a scale of 1 to 10, ten being the highest, how good are you in awareness of seeing specific people in crowds? Do you tend to see just crowds? Or do you tend to see specific people in crowds? ___________

THIRD SECTION: ME
1) When you are in a restaurant, - including a Burger King type place, do try to get the name of the waitress, waiter, bus boy, person at the cash register and say at the end of a transaction: “Thank you Susie;” “Thank you Walter!” Yes or no? __________

2) Do you ever clean up a counter, pick up a piece of paper on the floor, etc. in a women’s or men’s room on a highway or in a restaurant? ____________

3) If your job was to keep rest rooms clean on a high way or in a restaurant, on a scale of 1 to 10, ten being the highest, what would your rest rooms score for cleanliness? _______

4) In today’s gospel, Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand, who is no shepherd, nor owner of the sheep, catches sight of the wolf and runs away, leaving the sheep to be snatched and scattered by the wolf. That is because he works for pay; he has no concern for the sheep.” Question: Name the people you would lay down your life for? _____________.

CONCLUSION

This is just a test.